


The One Where Harry Kissed Draco

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bro talk, First Kiss, Inspired by Friends (TV), M/M, TikTok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: After an interesting night at the Astronomy Tower, Draco is ambushed by his friends and shares the juicy details.So do the golden trio. Sort of.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Millicent Bulstrode & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 127





	The One Where Harry Kissed Draco

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a tiktok i saw setting draco, blaise and pansy, and harry and ron to the scene from friends where rachel tells the girls about her first kiss with ross in great detail and ross tells the guys that he kissed rachel with absolutely no detail at all. the tiktok was by @ zoejkirpanos and i Love it

The common room is mostly silent when Draco bursts in at break-neck speed, panting and wide-eyed.

Pansy and Blaise are pretty much the only two students that are still awake at this point. Everyone else has gone to bed, but Pansy spilt a full well of ink over her Herbology essay and needs to get it re-done before third lesson tomorrow and Blaise always forgets his own existence when he gets into a really good book so he has no awareness that its just him and Pansy in the room until Draco practically flings himself through the common room entrance and starts spluttering incoherently at them.

“Merlin’s tits, Draco!” Pansy hisses, startled enough that she almost knocks her inkwell over her essay again. “Are you alright?”

“Have you been hexed?” Blaise asks. He’s got his book half-closed in one hand, fingers marking his place and his wand in the other, eyeing Draco up like he might do something rash. Honestly, with how Draco looks right now, Blaise has no idea whether the guy is going to throw up, pass out, or start casting bubble-charms. He looks out of it and terrified, but weirdly… happy about it?

What the fuck.

“H– Harry–”

“What did Harry do?” Pansy demands venomously. Now her wand is out too, brandished like a sword and Blaise steps a little to the left just in case. “If that little _mollusc_ and his friends ambushed you in the corridors I’m going to wedge those glasses of his into his colon.”

“No!” Draco yelps, just as Blaise says confusedly “but I thought you’d been getting along much better?”

Pansy whips her head around to glare at him – the wand changes direction with her and Blaise lunges sharply out of its path, genuinely fearful for his life.

_“What!?”_

“… _secretly_ getting along better. In secret.” Blaise murmurs to himself, but its too late now, the Kneasel’s already out of the bag.

“Look Pans, I’m sorry, I uh– I was going to say something, maybe–”

“No you weren’t,” Blaise interjects unhelpfully.

Draco scowls at him but if Blaise has already fucked up, he might as well go the whole nine yards.

“Okay, no, I wasn’t,” Draco admits, “but I wasn’t going to tell _anyone,_ mostly because I didn’t know what was happening, so I didn’t really have a clue what to say.”

“What _was_ happening?” Pansy asks, “and why does Blaise know if you weren’t telling anybody, hmm?”

“Blaise knew because he caught me sneaking back in a month ago at 3am. And as for what was happening, well… I’ve uh, sort of been going to meet Potter– _Harry.”_

“Potter?”

“Yeah, we’ve um, been talking.”

“About?”

“Anything,” Draco shrugs helplessly, “everything. Everything except the war and, well, you know. Its been nice. He’s really not as bad as we thought and we – well, _I_ actually severely misjudged a lot about him. Good grief, if you only knew half the stuff I found out…” Draco trailed off. He still couldn’t believe what Harry had told him about his family. “And I told him just as much stuff about me. We reached an understanding.”

“Alright,” Pansy says sceptically.

“Until tonight, when he, uh, whenhekissedme.”

“When he _what_.” Blaise’s jaw drops open.

“He _kissed_ you!” Pansy shrieks, throwing her arms in the air. Her wand sails across the room and lands dangerously close to the fireplace but at the current moment she couldn’t care less, this is– well it’s massive! “Oh my god, oh my god oh my _god!”_ Pansy repeats, looking dangerously close to hyperventilating.

Draco isn’t far behind, already starting to turn a very interesting combination of pink and green.

Blaise accios Pansy’s wand and passes it to her as he pushes her into a chair. She’s still repeating _oh my god_ over and over and Blaise reminds her to breathe. Then he drags Draco gently over to the sofa and presses his shoulders until the shaky Slytherin sits (collapses) on the sofa beside her.

“Breathe, mate,” Blaise warns, “don’t throw up alright? We can vanish the puke but we can’t vanish the smell.”

“Draco you have to tell us _everything_.” Pansy begs, desperately clinging onto Draco’s arm. “What was it like? How did it happen? Was it good?”

“I–”

“Shut up pansy!” Blaise hisses, scrambling away over to the door that leads to the dormitories, “hold off on the questions until we’ve got snacks!”

“Shit you’re right,” Pansy gasps, shooting back up off the sofa, “and drinks! An occasion like this calls for drinks!”

“Pansy its almost one in the morning–” Draco protests but it either isn’t loud enough or he’s just outright ignored. (He is outright ignored.)

“I’ve got butterbeers in my trunk,” Blaise waves her off, practically dancing in his eagerness to get the food, get back and hear the story.

“This is Draco’s first kiss, you dimwit – this calls for wine, and I’ve got some in _my_ trunk.”

“Aren’t we underage–”

“We’re not going to get trashed, Draco,” Pansy scolds him. “Honestly, we’re not savages. This is just to celebrate, but in a classy, non-drunk way. We’ll be fine, now stay there!”

Draco falls back against the sofa cushions as his friends disappear through opposing doors, his head spinning.

Harry kissed him.

Harry _kissed him._

“Merlin’s _balls,”_ he whispers to himself, burying his head in his hands and trying to push himself a far back into the sofa cushions as he can get. Maybe he can bury himself, maybe he can–

He’s yanked up by an unnaturally strong hand. Pansy looms above him when he opens his eyes, a maniacal fire in her eyes as she practically vibrates in front of the couch, two bottles of wine in one hand and in the other –

“Millicent?”

The tall Slytherin looks down at him and shrugs one broad shoulder. “Pansy woke me up rummaging through her trunk. I heard potter kissed you.”

She smiles warmly at him, and it does not evoke the same fear in him that pansy’s terrifying grin does.

“Was it good?” Millicent asks curiously and Draco opens his mouth when the other door flies open, Blaise dragging a case of butterbeer and levitating a whole trunk full of snacks.

_“Do **not** start without me! Do **not** start without me!” _Blaise huffs desperately as he flings the trunk over and dumps it down in front of them, hurrying to produce three quills – then a fourth, after spotting Millicent – and transfigure them into goblets. They stay feathery, and Millicent whips out her wand and corrects it.

“Thanks Mils,” Blaise says distractedly, already trying to wrestle open a bag of Honeydukes’s Finest Coconut and Vanilla Popping Corn and shove the un-popped kernels into his mouth even as he tries to untwist a butterbeer.

It doesn’t work, and he ends up with popping corn spilling out of his moth, stupidly leaving it hanging open in his distraction instead of keeping it closed like it _says on the damn packet._

“Gross,” Pansy mutters, edging away from the tainted popcorn. Millicent sits down on the other sofa and pulls pansy over with her. They lean in rather like vultures, Pansy unsurprisingly being much more threatening despite being almost a full foot shorter than Millicent who’s the tallest out of all of them at 6”2.

“So _spill,”_ she says gleefully.

“Well, I um – where do I start?”

“At the beginning,” Blaise says unhelpfully.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.

“Well I met Harry at the top of the astronomy tower. We, um, we like to watch the stars when we talk. Its rather peaceful like that.”

_“Aww,”_ Pansy coos, “that’s so romantic!”

“Agreed,” says Millicent. “I usually stay out of this sort of stuff – I’m not one for drama, but that’s cute. This is nice.”

“I know.” Pink appears in Draco’s cheeks and Pansy looks like she might make another cooing noise so Draco hurries along. “It also makes it easier if we, you know, have something difficult to talk about, like… families. Helps to be able to look at something else rather than look each other in the eye.”

“Less romantic,” Pansy murmurs and Blaise throws a kernel at her.

She sticks her tongue out at him and starts uncorking the wine. Red for herself, a small glass of white for Draco (since he still looks queasy) and after a quick questioning gesture, a red for Millicent. She should have brought some rosé, Pansy laments. Milly likes a rosé and if Pansy wasn’t present she wouldn’t put it past her to try and mix red and white to get pink, which means _Pansy_ would be the one throwing up.

Draco hesitantly takes his glass and has a sip. Then another one. It is _very_ good wine.

Pansy smirks to herself. Her skills might not be widely ranged, but what she is good at she is _very_ good at, and her principal four are revenge, subterfuge and manipulation, fashion, and her taste in wine. She’s also a dab hand with a hockey stick too, although she would never use it for sport. She can knock a head from a statue from 300 yards.

“What were you talking about?” Millicent asks.

Draco swills his glass around, looking at the pale drink inside. “We were talking about all sorts of stuff, really. But we started talking about the stars, he likes to quiz me on the constellations because… because he was never taught any, so he likes to learn, and we got onto the tradition of star names in the Black family so I know a ridiculous amount. I mean, I might be a Malfoy, but Mother ensured I have a Black name.”

“God I love your mum,” Blaise says wistfully. Too wistfully. Draco sends a shower of sparks at his feet and Blaise jumps.

“We ended up talking about the Black family tree. Apparently there’s this old mural thing where Sirius lives. I don’t think I’ve seen it – or if I did when I was little I don’t remember it, but then we talked about Sirius for a bit and I said that I’d never gotten to meet him because of everything that happened and the tensions between the Blacks at that point, and it was just… it was nice that we could talk about that with each other, you know? I mean, his godfather is my _cousin_ and that’s never really been acknowledged before. It’s nice that it’s not such a tense or forbidden topic anymore.”

“It’s nice to have that connection,” Millicent agreed.

Blaise raises his butterbeer. “Yeah, and it’s nice that you can talk about stuff without any…. animosity, I suppose, or politics getting in the way. I assume you’ve called a truce in that respect.”

Draco nods. “Yeah, we did. And it’s gone well.”

“Get to the kiss, get to the kiss!” Pansy insists. Millicent frowns and pokes her in the side hard, almost making her spill her wine.

“Let him get to it in his own time,” she chides, pulling her dressing gown around herself.

Pansy casts a warming charm over it in apology.

“To be fair Mils, that is next,” Draco admits, and Pansy gives Millicent a smug grin. “We said that it was nice to be able to talk about that kind of stuff, and how we knew so much more and such… such a different side to everything? Like everything we knew got deeper because we had two sides of everything now, and some of it overlapped which was nice because it was common ground, or it didn’t, and we learned something new. It was really really… nice.” There was no other way he could think to describe it.

“It’s funny how much we have in common, especially with family, even though we had completely different upbringings and uh, _ideals_.” Draco winces, taking a large gulp of wine. Pansy frowns at him for that but doesn’t say anything. “And well, I guess he must have thought the same thing, how nice it was, because he– he kissed me.”

_“Under the stars…”_ Pansy breathes. He can practically see the heats in her eyes.

Millicent, who had stolen a handful of Blaise’s pop in the mouth corn agrees through her full mouth.

“What was it like?” Blaise asks, leaning forward eagerly.

“I–” Draco starts. He doesn’t really have a frame of reference, so he doesn’t really know how to describe it. He doesn’t _think_ it had been bad, but… he really can’t tell. “It was good,” he settles on. To him it _had_ been good. Who cares if it hadn’t really been good or if they’d done it wrong, he’d liked it. “Really good,” he continues, starting to smile, “wonderful, even.”

Pansy squeals, flapping her non-glass-holding hand excitedly. “Oh, that’s so _excellent!”_ she coos, “I’m so happy for you!”

“Did– did he like, touch your face?” Millicent asks.

“Well that’s a weird question.” Blaise says.

“Its not!” Mils protests, “loads of people like, put their hands on people’s cheeks and stuff. Its romantic!”

“He did,” Draco admits and Pansy squeals again. Millicent looks delighted. “Not at first, I mean. At first it was just, you know, a kiss. That was it. But then he backed off and I think – I don’t think he’d been planning on it, because he seemed pretty freaked out.”

“Oh _no,”_ Pansy gushes.

“I thought he was going to run away or something, or that he’d say he hadn’t meant it and gone crazy.”

“Mate, no.” Blaise lays a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco smiles at him and pats the hand. “It’s alright. He apologised about it – because he said he should have _asked_. He said he wasn’t thinking about it and that he just went for it. Once he realised what he was actually doing and that I might not be into it he backed off.”

“But you _were_ into it,” Pansy giggles, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Draco blushes. “Yes Pansy,” he says, “I _was_ into it.”

_“OooOooOoOo!”_ Pansy squeals.

Millicent winces and leans away from her, protecting her ears. “Did you kiss him back?”

“I’m getting there. I said it was fine and that… and that I didn’t _hate_ it. And he said ‘oh you didn’t _hate_ it?’ and I said ‘well actually if you _must_ know I rather liked it’, and he grinned and he said that that was a rather confusing thing to say and that we should probably do it again so I could un-confuse myself.”

“Oh that’s smooth,” Pansy says approvingly.

“It really wasn’t,” Draco says. “But I kissed him that time before he could say any more garbage and it was really, really nice. Definitely better when I know it’s coming so I have the time to kiss back.”

“Yes I’d say having both people doing the kissing _usually_ makes it better,” Blaise says dryly and Draco hits him, making the other boy spill his butterbeer.

“Shut up.”

“So he touched your face?” Millicent reiterates and Blaise immediately butts in with “do you have a weird _thing_ for that or something?” and gets hit _again_.

“Yeah,” Draco agrees, enjoying Blaise rubbing his now very sore and likely to bruise arm, “then he touched my face. He sort of put his palm– here–” he puts his palm against his cheek, curving under his jaw. “It was so good.”

“Here,” Pansy grabs his wrist and brings his glass closer to her so she can refill it. “Now tell us what happened next…”

* * *

“So I um, I kissed Malfoy,” Harry mentions sheepishly when he crawls into the portrait hole at almost one in the morning.

_“What!?”_ Hermione shouts from by the fireplace, her head shooting up from her pile of books.

“About time,” Ron, almost half asleep in the armchair next to her, says, lifting himself up from the overly-squishy cushions with great difficulty. “Was it a snog?” he asks, “like with tongue and stuff?”

“Ew, no!” harry exclaims, recoiling as he folds up the invisibility cloak. “God Ron, it was just a _kiss_.”

“Was it, um, nice?” Hermione ventures, looking rather uncertain about the whole thing. What else is she meant to ask? She doesn’t really have the most amount of interest in this sort of thing – certainly not compared to her ridiculously hormonal housemates – but the least she can ask is if he’d liked it.

“Yes,” Harry whispers. He starts to turn as red as his house tie. “Very.”

“Well,” Hermione nodded, “that’s, um, nice. Good for you Harry.”

“Yeah, congrats mate,” Ron says, spalling a hand on Harry’s back. “you uh, you gonna do it again?”

Harry shrugs, “I hope so.”

“Well alright then. Good for you.”

Nobody says anything else for a few minutes.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Hermione announces after that really awkward silence, scooping her books into a stack and levitating them. “See you all tomorrow.”

“Yeah I’m gonna head up too, Harry,” Ron says mid-yawn, stretching. “You coming?”

Harry shrugs. “Sure.” He might not sleep – he’s far too giddy and warm for that – but he might as well if no one else is up.

“Think you can get the Slytherins to stop being such dicks if you’re snogging their silver prince?”

Harry slaps Ron upside the back of the head and shoots him a look.

“Alright alright,” Ron grumbles, “worth a shot.”


End file.
